


A-Taking Of His Dolce Far Niente

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: 1910s, Barebacking, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dancing, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Grinding, Halloween, Incest, Loud Sex, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Sex, Sibling Incest, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8530468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: At the Mikaelson Halloween Ball, Death comes for Iolanthe.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Rounds of Kink](http://rounds-of-kink.livejournal.com/) Halloween mini-round. Title quote from Iolanthe. Written in British English as spoken by the characters in canon.

Kol leaned against the far wall of the compound’s courtyard, surveying the bemusing crowd of vampires, werewolves, witches and humans dressed up as humans, witches, werewolves and vampires. Although he appreciated the twisted symmetry, he was getting tired of the endless parade of Mikaelson balls. Or rather, he was tired of being called upon to attend them and substantiate his brothers’ claims of civility and good behaviour since his recent undaggering. Why they insisted he show his face tonight, given how nobody was supposed to show their face at a masked ball, was a complete mystery to him. He could have just as well played prince and pauper with a servant and not a single one of them would have known the difference. Well, maybe a single one of them…

“You look like death,” Rebekah commented with a distasteful frown, gesturing over the sunken eyes of his mask, his painted face shadowed into a skull and the slither of bare chest that his shirt couldn’t cover painted into a ribcage, extending up to a stark collarbone that barely connected to the bones of his neck, reaching up to the dark hollow under his jaw. Despite her disapproval of his costume, she leaned in to kiss his charcoaled cheek, leaning against the wall beside him.

“She kisses just like other people,” Kol quoted, sparing her a quick once over. He took in her white dress and the green silk leaves that adorned it, the violets woven into her golden hair, the delicate veil that he thought barely counted at a masked ball. Nik had dragged them all to the opera last week and she’d been playing the sorrowful part of _Iolanthe_ since the moment the curtain had dropped. As much as he would never admit it out loud, she looked more beautiful than the singer had and by far outshone every other woman at the party, with or without her mask.

“She does more than kiss,” Rebekah hinted, pulling him away from the wall by the lapel of his jacket, towards the entwined couples. “She dances too.”

Rolling his eyes to pretend she didn’t have him completely under her thumb, he took her waist and indulged her. Leading the dance by memory alone, surveying the dancers instead, he struggled to find a single one he could identify. That’s what came from being freshly let out of his coffin, he supposed but even so, there should be Nik and Elijah, at the least.

“Have our hosts abandoned us?” Kol asked curiously, daring to press a little closer in their absence.

Rebekah shook her head, her cheek brushing against his, seemingly by accident. With two fingers tickling under his jaw, she titled his head up, turning his eyes to the balcony to show him Niklaus distracted with a select few guests of honour that wouldn’t make it through the night. Turning his head the other way, she brought his attention to Elijah leading away the select few members of the council that had to make it through this night and every other, no doubt to drink the good bourbon and talk about dull matters of state. She let her fingers linger on his jaw a moment longer, taking a line of white paint with her, revealing he was but flesh under his bones. 

Catching sight of her pale fingertips, he tutted, bringing them to his lips, kissing them so the paint smeared his lips instead. “Do you often toy with death so?”

“When he lets me.” Rebekah grinned against his neck, being careful not to get any more paint on herself, being careful not to get too close while still within Nik’s line of sight. 

“He’ll let you,” Kol whispered so only she could hear. They could only spare a dance like this every few decades or so, to avoid raising their brothers suspicions. He could feel it already, in the frantic beat of her heart and the way she’d let her touch stray from familial to intimate, the possessiveness of her hand on shoulder. Tonight was going to be one of those nights.

Pressing closer, until there wasn’t an inch between them, she steered his steps closer and closer to Nik’s balcony, holding her breath until they passed underneath it. They were not the first revellers to seek the protection of the shadows, Kol noticed as Rebekah’s hand slipped lower down his arm, guiding his own touch away from the relative safety of her waist to her hip.

Even in her almost bridal veil, her virginal white dress and her childlike crown of flowers, her gaze was heated enough to burn right through him. He thought she might kiss him but she stopped him as he leaned towards her, ready to lift her veil. “Remember, I would be banished for loving a mortal man.”

Turning his head to the side, kissing behind her ear instead, he had to remind himself of the character she played tonight and how it struck a chord with the dangers their own choices risked. It wouldn’t be the first time either one of them had been banished by far but betraying their family together, Niklaus would not be so forgiving as Rebekah’s fairy queen. Indulging her concern, he slowed down, content for a while to dance with her, shielded away from those that might make the connection between them, letting Nik drown himself deeper in his wine and his entertainment, letting him think they were doing the same.

As the shadows grew deeper and stretched longer, Rebekah moved in his grip, turning out towards the light, pressing her back against him, laying his hands back in place on her waist again with an entirely different meaning. Reaching up to curl her hand around the back of his neck, she swayed her hips, rubbing insistently against him until she had him hard against her. Glancing around, he knew she had been emboldened by the turn the party had taken. The wild streak in the werewolves bleeding out unheeding of the waxing moon, biting and clawing at flesh with teeth and nails instead of claws and fangs. The vampires’ hunger, some barely keeping from tearing into the necks of their partners, others not caring so much for discretion and feeding openly, wantonly. Just out of his line of sight but within earshot, humans fucked with abandon, the anonymity of their masks and their hosts’ penchant for decadence bringing out the animals that laid within all of them, human, vampire and werewolf alike. In an opposite corner, he caught sight of a witch he knew seducing another with a combination of potions that would have her higher than any opiate and soaked in pleasure before she’d even been touched. Kol knew, he’d taught her which herbs would open the mind and which ones had a remarkable ability to open knees instead.

Groaning into her neck, knowing nobody would spare them a second glance in their little quiet corner, Kol stroked down over her hip, keeping his other hand steady on her waist, trying to keep her from rubbing against him too hard, the soft curve of her arse too good against his cock. As his hand slipped lower, between the folds of her silken dress, she tipped her head back, resting it on his shoulder, baring her neck beautifully, as good as giving herself to him. But that wasn’t what he craved, not tonight. His hand dipped lower but just before it reached her cunt, she caught it, bringing it up to rest on her chest instead, just shy of innocently.

“Not here,” she explained quickly, casting a frantic glance in every direction but there was nowhere else to go, no private room that didn’t mean they’d have to pass their brothers or somebody else that might know their face. No spot more secluded, no corner more hidden, no shadow deeper. Even the gates and the rest of the world were too far away. Rebekah turned back to him, breathing hard against his lips, the lace of the veil drawing into her mouth with every laboured inhale. “Fuck, alright, here...”

Dragging her veil back, Rebekah pushed him back against the brick wall, her hands grabbing his jaw to kiss him desperately, heedless of how the makeup smudged underneath her fingers, revealing everywhere she touched. Reversing their positions, Kol lifted her, pressing her back firmly against the wall, her legs opening for him as they wrapped themselves around his hips, his skeletal ribs blending into each other and her leaves falling from her dress in their haste to get to skin, just enough skin to get what they needed. Black and white turned to gray on the fresh canvas of her dress as Rebekah’s chest heaved, hard nipples brushing against his shirt as she undid hid trousers. Breathing in a sharp gasp of the cold night air, her hand finally found what she was after, wrapping tightly around his cock, fingers sliding the silken skin over the head, thumb rubbing at the ridge underneath, nearly making him lose his grip on her thighs, knowing just how to make his knees weak with a single stroke. 

Biting back her name, knowing that would give them away to anyone listening, he buried his face in her neck instead, leaving a trail of black lines from her ear to her collarbone as he kissed and nipped at the delicate skin, hands busy relieving her of Iolanthe’s equally delicate under garments, seeking out the heat of her cunt, fingers pushing inside her until she opened up around them. The noise of the crowd was suddenly unbearable. The music, the glasses, the chatter, the moans and cries of pleasure, the scrabble of a fight breaking out. He needed to hear her, needed to hear her cries and moans, needed her hands to scrabble at his skin. He curled his fingers inside her, keeping the pressure on her g-spot until her nails clawed at his back and her hand squeezed his cock threateningly, finally making herself heard over the scream of the masses.

“Kol...” she groaned, shaking her head to clear it, hoping his reputation might excuse her one slip. “Need you inside me. Now.”

Growling against her skin, feeling her cunt clench demandingly around his fingers, he relented. Pulling back, he traced the outline of her lips with his fingers until she opened her mouth, sucking them clean, moaning around them as he pushed inside her, the dramatic screech of a string quartet bringing Ravel to his end in F Major as everything else quietened inside them for a moment, barely moving, staying deep inside her as she held her breath, trying not to make a sound. Until the music broke into a crescendo and Rebekah tightened her legs around him, pulling at his lapel again, reaching up to curl her hand around one of the balcony supports, pulling herself up, riding his cock with a guttural moan, heedless to those around her or above her, even as they started to get a few lingering, curious looks.

He could feel the eyes on the back of his neck boring into him as he thrust into her, matching her desperate pace, knowing tomorrow rumours would be abound about Death’s own dalliance with la petite mort. He could feel the shadows moving closer, wanting a piece of them, wanting to touch and feel them. Baring his fangs in warning, Kol growled, marking the boundary. He didn’t care who was watching, it wasn’t the first time he’d fucked out in the open like this but he wasn’t about to invite the supernatural population of New Orleans to start helping them along. No matter how many people stared or who shared their beds on other nights, right now, she was his alone and he was hers.

Scratching his nails down the bricks, palms flat against them, he fucked her harder, knowing the exact angle by heart to make her cry out, louder and sharper as she got closer, almost morbidly wanting her to scream his name up to Nik above them. Surely he could hear them now. They weren’t exactly quiet, between her moans and pleas for more, and his growls, low groans and the scandalising curses. Anyone with half a mind should have figured them out long ago but nobody would dare think badly of the Mikaelsons, let alone share that thought out loud.

Rebekah turned his head back to her, as if sensing his thoughts, kissing the fatal egotism out of him, bringing him back to the moment, the heat of her cunt and her mouth, the tightness of her embrace, the pleasure she could rouse in him with just her eyes. She had always been his undoing, even before he’d learned to be his own. Kissing her back with the same passion she showed him, he discarded his thoughts about those around them, those above, focusing on her and her alone. 

Reaching under her dress, he stroked over her clit with his thumb, his thrusts deeper, more intense as her thighs start to tremble around his waist, her cunt fluttering around his cock with each gasped breath, desperate to keep him inside her every time he pulled back, slamming home with a satisfied moan. With each quickening thrust driving them closer, Kol held her tighter, catching her when her hand slipped from the iron support, her arm wrapping around his neck instead, frantically rocking against him as she chased her orgasm, mouth open in a silent cry as she came around his cock, nails digging into the nape of his neck, the bite of pain sparking something deep inside him that her body shivering against him brought right to the surface, prickling heat rising just under his skin. Curling his hand in her hair, cradling the back of her head, he watched as pleasure flitted over her face, cunt tightening around him as insistently as the pounding of her heart, strong as each aftershock that flowed through her.

With one last brutal kiss, Kol gave in and let himself come, a clear half dozen waves of pure pleasure burning through him, spilling into her, leaving him spent but just strong enough to keep her back from scraping on the bricks and her feet from touching the floor too quickly as he set her down, still leaning into her as he collapsed back against the wall, breathing heavily. “Is that what got you banished from fairy land because I can see their point...”

“Says you, you look like death debauched now.” Rebekah grinned shakily over at him, making a token effort to straighten her dress, pulling her veil quickly over her face again to protect her modesty but not hide her smile. “It should be illegal to look so thoroughly fucked when one is clearly past their best.”

“Nobody said Iolanthe was past her best,” Kol countered, elbowing her gently before pushing away from the wall, making himself as decent as he could. There was nothing he could do to save his makeup, or her dress, but the party wasn’t over yet. “Come on, we never finished that dance.”

“Really?” Rebekah groaned, pressing her thighs together, cringing at how sticky and wet they were with both their come.

Kol grinned wickedly, pulling more insistently on her hand, letting her believe the charade for a moment longer. “No, not really, let’s go upstairs.”

“That’s more like it,” Rebekah agreed, following closely behind him, eyes adverted as they cut through the crowd to the staircase, running up the steps at such speed that they were just a gust of wind to Nik, the air turning thick and sweet and full of sex as the ball drew to a close beneath them.

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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